We Will Stay and You Will Go: Part 3 - Printable Version +- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf99.com) +-- Forum:   (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=113) +--- Forum: Archives (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=13) +---- Forum: Fire and Ice 2022 PPV RP Boards (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=181) +---- Thread: We Will Stay and You Will Go: Part 3 (/showthread.php?tid=42790)

We Will Stay and You Will Go: Part 3 - Corey Smith - 01-29-2022 I know you’re hurting right now. And I know it’s because of me. There aren’t enough words to describe how badly I’ve screwed this up. Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m sitting here thinking how much I’d like to be laying next to you in bed, just watching the rise and fall of your chest as you sleep. I’m thinking about how I want to hear your heartbeat against my face. I’m thinking about how I want to hold your hand as I drive, bringing it up to my lips every so often to kiss it. Jesus…that’s all gone, isn’t it? It’s all gone. Before The battle field was arrayed in a forest clearing. Pan and Corey tracked the enemy by the smoking effluvium of their camp fires in the distance, grim portents of the violence to come. And now it was here, in all its terrible glory. Hook’s damned crew numbered close to 40. All of them sallow skinned, dark eyed men covered in ritualistic scarring. Hook was mounted on a stallion, his black pirates garb with red trimming looking admittedly smart on his proud frame. On another horse just behind him was Lovecraft, clad in a long dark coat with a wide brimmed preachers hat atop his head. The sun was high in the sky, but these evil men looked perpetually clammy despite the radiance. Their glances spoke of murder. Of a rage long stymied by loss but promised the world. Corey looked at Pan, whose face was grim. On one side of his waist a sword was sheathed. On the other, affixed to a rope belt, was a clear jar. Something shimmered and swirled within the jar. Are you starting to feel like this was a mistake? Pan queried, surveying their numerous enemies. No children will be hurt. Corey repeated his mantra, a mantra he held firm to despite the fact that it resulted in their side of the battlefield looking woefully outmatched. Corey brought his hand down to his own sword. Lux had taught him some rudimentary basics of fighting with a blade, but of course he had never been as adept as her with it. Today, his mediocre skills would be more than put to the test. Hook’s mount was spurred to the fore. The captain, that child murdering villain, removed his hat and hung it at his side. He looked confident, and not at all intimidated by the strangeness of this new land. Is that it then, Pan? It is. He spoke the words like a challenge. Hook grinned. I’m told this isn’t our first time meeting. I’m told that I’ve been, what’s the word for it, “reincarnated”. Now, I’m not sure how much I believe all that. No offense to my good friend Mr. Lovecraft. But I do know this. I have never felt a greater sense of purpose than I do right now. And what purpose is that? Dedication to my new master. And my manifest destiny. You gotta be shittin’ me. Hook stopped short at the flagrant disrespect. I assure you Mr. Smith. I am NOT “shitting you.” These lands were made for me. They were… Fuck it. Thad, take the shot. The air was split by a mighty crack, and before it could register with any of his allies, Hook had slipped off his saddle, fresh blood pouring out the back of his skull. As a final indignity, his horse spooked and his foot caught in the stirrup. The horse dragged it’s master up and away from the battlefield, as his men looked on in dumbstruck silence. Corey spoke aloud so the mic he was carrying could hear it. Helluva shot, Dukey. It was, wasn’t it? His voice crackled back. Pan chuckled at Corey’s side. Corey looked out at the mass of men. I’ll be damned if I was going to listen to that child killing piece of shit monologue. But the rest of you have a choice. Go back the way you came or… Lovecraft pointed at Corey and announced in a gutteral tone, Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn. And that’s when the throng of men surged at them. Pan dipped back into a fighting stance, bringing his sword to bear. His free hand went to the jar at his side, which he adroitly opened one handed, allowing the shimmer within to spill forth. As the band formed, it soon became clear that it wasn’t so much a uniform shape, but multiple smaller shapes. Folklore would oft refer to them as pixies or faeries. But they weren’t quite like Tinkerbell. As they advanced towards the field of battle, their colors dulled and their features grew more feral, sprouting vicious fangs. Pan touched Corey’s hand, but stayed eyes forward. Are you ready for this? As I’ll ever be. The young men leapt into battle. Pan dove into the enemy with wreckless abandon, sword flashing under the light of the sun as he spun and twirled like a Romani dancer. His fighting style was poetry in motion, so fast and agile it nearly seemed as though he were stepping in and out of time. Corey had to resist the urge to marvel as Pan felled two sword wielding warriors with relative ease. However, two others gave him some pause, clearly more skilled than their predescessors. The contents of the jar also set to work. Since their transformation, the tiny fey creatures were little more than aerial maws of sharp teeth. They thudded into bodies and immediately set to work, thrashing and gnawing holes in the flesh, burrowing deep like a parasite. Corey was aghast at the ruthless efficiency of the little creatures, taken aback by how something so formerly mesmerizing could become so deadly. At the far end of the battlefield, a pack of horses was pulling a goliath trebuchet, the weapon no doubt brought along to lay siege to Pan's village. Corey set his sights on this target. Gripping his sword tight and praying a quick mantra to the diety he was priveledged to know existed, Corey also waded into the fracas. Immediately, an arrow hit the ground about a foot from his ankle. A brigade of archers had assembled further afield, and Corey pointed and called out to Pan to warn him. Meanwhile, three of the brigands moved into melee range. Corey swallowed deep and shored up his resolve. One of them slashed out at Corey, and he just barely parried the blow before being forced to deflect another. The combatants instantly manuevered to try to hem Corey in. He knew he needed to prevent being assaulted on all fronts. Corey feinted high and then struck low, gashing open the thigh of one of the fighters, causing him to curse and stumble back. Seeing this, the other two attacked. Corey turned aside, allowing the sword of one to impale itself in the shoulder of the other. The stricken man fell screaming to thr ground, clutching his arm as it dangled out of socket. Corey turned to the final combatant, and their blades clashed. But no sooner had that happened than did another gunshot ring out, and a high caliber bullet embedded itself in his assailant's neck, dropping him. Good shootin' Tex. Corey spoke aloud. Tex? Bite your tongue. Thad Duke shot back from the microphone affixed to Corey's torso. Try to take out those....shit! Two more arrows assailed the ground uncomfortably close to Corey. ...those archers! On it. Just then, the man whose thigh had been lacerated lunged at Corey, his sword forgotten in favor of some spiked brass knuckles. Corey didn't see it coming, and he was doubled over by a stiff shot to the abdomen. Corey! Corey juked back to avoid further injury, pointing his sword at his assailant to keep him at bay. Thad Duke came through again, a headshot taking the man out of the mix with a fierceness. Corey looked down at his abdomen and saw thin trickles of blood already appearing on his shirt. Damn it! He winced in pain, but took stock of the battlefield again. Pan was still holding his own, and some of the men certainly seemed spooked by the sniper shots. The field was littered with the tiny fey creatures, having been ripped out of bodies before they could do too much damage and pulped by angry fists before being cruelly lobbed onto the ground. By Corey's guess, there were still about 30 men in the fight. 29, as another shot echoed out and an archer dropped. The surrounding archers broke formation, though whether it was done out of fear or sound stretegy Corey wasn't sure. Corey again set his sights on the advancing trebuchet, and he skirted the edge of the field of battle to attempt to circle round to it. But another duo of fighters spotted him and gave chase. Corey surprised them by charging in, using his monentum to slide on his knees and cut one of them off at the shins. He went down screaming. Corey popped up just in time to meet a glancing blow from the other that set him off balance. Seeing the weakness, the other slashed at Corey, intent on taking off his head. Corey ducked back, the blade nearly shearing off his shirt as it floated in the air. That was too close. Giving himself some room, Corey cycled back, almost stumbling into another dying brigand who was trying to extricate one of the fey that was lodged in his neck. Corey kicked the man out of the way before meeting his original attacker again. Their blades clashed over and over, this one clearly being more limber and better trained than the others. So much so that Corey soon found him pressing an advantage. Little help here! Corey called out. Hold on, have to get my bearings! Corey set back on his haunches, switching into a defensive stance. Doing so reignited the burn in the flesh on his abdomen, but he did his best to ignore the pain. A gunshot went off, but it was wide right as the swordman moved just in the nick of time. Try again! I know, I know! Corey made a defensive stab, and then another, trying to keep his attacker from advancing anymore. The attacker also seemed to be aware that the sniper was training on him, forcing his attention in two directions. Advantage, Corey. *BANG* The shot ripped through the attackers knee. He fell, calling out some foul bit of apologia to The Old One. Boy. The voice was venomous. Corey wheeled about to find himself face to face with Lovecraft. Fancy yourself a hero? I try my best. Corey dug in his back heel, preparing for an attack. That you do, Corey, that you do. Thad, you got a bead on this asshole? Corey listened for the reply, but there was nothing. And then, the area around Corey got darker. The sun was blotted out. And to his astonishment, he found that he was viewing the rest of the battlefield through a sort of hazy black shade. What did you do?! Lovecraft gestured to his arcane creation. We're alone now Corey. Free to discuss terms uninterrupted by the rest of this boorishness. Terms? Corey snorted. Your guys are getting eaten alive out there. If you insist. Lovecraft allowed, but his tenor suggested that was certainly not all. But as you know, this WILL happen again. And again. Yeah...yeah. Pan told me. It doesn't have to, Corey. We can strike a bargain. I'm not bargaining with you. Oh really? Lovecraft's stony face perked up, and the expression was unsettling to say the least. I should think you'd be used to Faustian Pacts by now. He knows. Corey tried not to let his dismay bleed through. I don't know... Save it. Monsters talk, Corey. Mammon was actually quite impressed by your duplicity. A grip releases. A man falls. No. NO! Stay the fuck out of my head! I'm not in your head. You're well enough in your own head for both of us. Lovecraft carried a haughty disposition. The fact is that you let a man die to protect your people. You're not willing to bargain for Pan's people? This should be Pan's call! Why are you asking me? Because Pan won't bargain. The declaration was steeped in profundity, as though he had just spoken a universal truth. Corey looked at Lovecraft derisively. He would do what he needs to do to protect the people he cares about. You don't think I've asked him before? You don't think we've been down this road? He pauses. Corey, he wouldn't bargain. He'd rather fight eternally. Risk the lives of those children eternally. But you? You'll bargain. It was nearly a challenge. What do you want? Here's my proposition. Neverland will see no more Captain Hook's, no more wars...if you agree to kill Pan. What?! Corey was dismayed. What we want is territory, Corey. A stake in half of Neverland. It's all we've ever wanted. But Pan wouldn't allow it. He'd rather keep throwing lives and resources down a pit on endless conflict. Corey, HE is the problem! Is all of this worth one man child's ego? And what of those who already live in the lands you want to lay claim to? Displacement? Annihilation? You have my assurance that the lands we desire are already sparseley populated at best. "Sparsely populated at best"? So it'll just be a tiny genocide then? Fine. Lovecraft bristled. You need me to sweeten the deal? My power, and my benefactor's, can be remarkably wide reaching. There must be something additional you desire, no? Christian dancing under the sun, body swaying to a hidden rhythm..... I could...I could... Yes, something's there, isn't it? I could have him back. He could love me again. You're awash in it Corey. Lovecraft spoke plainly. A secret loss. Something pulling at your heart strings. The Old One can make it better. He can give you what you desire. I could make it merciful. I could make it so he feels no pain. A grip releases. A man falls. Christian dancing. The smell of him. The taste of him. His hand in mine. His GRIP in mine. ... ... ... No. No? No. Go fuck yourself. Corey's heart tore in two. His grip releases. Christian falls. You're making a mistake. I know. Go fuck yourself anyway. Corey tried mightily to keep the small hitch out of his voice. Lovecraft mused for a moment. And then, a shadow seemed to peel off his body, an incorporeal darkness that traveled along the ground like encoraching night, gliding towards Corey quicker than he could react. It was on him in no time, a shadowy hand reaching out to squeeze his throat. Corey gasped, dropping his sword so he could use both hands to try to peel the attacker away. But when he tried to gain hold of the shadowy arm, he found their was nothing to grip onto but an amorphous cold. It didn't have to be this way. Lovecraft approached, an eerie greenish glow in his hands. Give Aiwass my regards when you see him in hell. Darkness encorached at the corners of Corey's vision, and all light began to die, fading to varying hues of fizzy gray. I'm dying. More and more the darkness irised out the light, all encompassing. Everything. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry... In those final moments, he wondered if he would see Lux. he wondered if she would be there waiting for him. It almost made it worth it. And just like that, he could breathe again. The shadows in the corners of his vision were stayed, the spectral force suddenly gone. Corey gasped and sank to his knees, looking up as the sights and sounds of battle returned. A blade had pushed through Lovecraft's chest from the back. Corey could barely make out Pan behind him, calling something out to Corey that couldn't register just yet. Lovecraft pitched forward, howling in rage moreso than pain. The green energy that had been crackling in his fists started to move up his arms, onto his shoudlers. It was wild energy, now unchecked and wracking the sorceror's body. Pan backed away as Lovecraft took a few hesitant steps as his body was eaten alive by the nercomantic energies, flesh peeling from bone and sloughing off in deadened meaty chunks. By the time he hit the ground, his corpse was mostly wet bone with scraps of rotting muscle attached. Corey looked about, seeing the tide of battle turning in their favor, as Hook’s men took note of the demise of both their leaders and started to break ranks. Another of Thad’s rifle shots popped off in the distance and Corey knew they had won this day. Christian, this isn’t even an attempt to get you back. God knows how much I’d like that. But it’s clear to me how unhappy you were. How much the stress and chaos of my life wore you down bit by bit until you couldn’t take it anymore. So no, this isn’t that. Because quite frankly I love you enough to let you go. I want you to be happy. I want you to be WITH someone who makes you happy. You’re a beautiful soul, and you deserve that much and more. After the battle Thad sat near the fire, it’s radiance casting angular shadows on his face. Corey sat beside him. There was still an awkward…something…between them. A scar that still itched as it became keratosis. Thad opened up the dialogue, chancing a glance at Corey. I’m sorry my dad brought you into this mess. You didn’t deserve that. Corey leaned back a bit, savoring the heat but not wanting to get too close. It’s okay. It’ll be nice to be able to focus on somebody else’s mess for once. Can’t tell if serious. Thad deadpanned. Hell, me either. Thad paused before continuing. Dolly told me about Christian. I’m sorry man, I know what he meant to you. Yeah… Corey breathed, looking out over the fire at the children dancing under the moonlight nearby. It was too much for him, you know? Our lives. They’re fuckin’ insane. And it was just too much. I’ll drink to that. But, do you think there’s any chance you two could… No. No, I don’t think so. And I wouldn’t want that for him anyway. I don’t want him to be unhappy. Thad smiled. You’re a good Corey. Then, another lengthy pause, as though weighing some options. Not to be insensitive, but have you considered that maybe what you need is somebody as weird as you? Thanks. Thad chuckled. No, I mean it! Thad nodded his head in Pan’s direction. I couldn’t miss how he was looking at you. Pan was with the children some distance from the fire, recounting the tale of the battle, no doubt. Pan?! It was Corey’s turn to chuckle. He’s like…I don’t know…how am I supposed to date a fairy tale? Jesus, I can’t believe that’s something that just came out of my mouth. Well, I don’t know, dating a fairy tale sounds pretty cool to me. Corey’s mind retreated into the memory of their bodies close together under the shower, when Pan transported them to Neverland from the hospital. How Corey’s lips brushed Pan’s, getting caught up in the heat of the moment, acting on an instinct both right and wrong in one pregnant instant. It’s too soon. Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is. Thad conceded, attention returning to the fire. So, you gonna help me cancel my dad? Corey smirked. I don’t know, you gonna kick me in the face again? Yee-owch. I’ll try not to, but things might get hairy out there. I don’t know if you noticed but I kinda hate the son of a bitch. Then I think the best thing I can do is give you all the uninterrupted time I can to make things square anyway you see fit. Thad pointed at Corey. I….cannot argue with that. He wiped his hands on his jeans, indicating a certain degree of anxiety. Are we ok? Like, really ok? Corey paused to collect his thoughts. It’s going to take some time. I know…I know… But you helping me today. Hell, let’s call a spade a spade, you saving my life today, is an excellent start. Thank you again, man. I couldn’t have done this without you. It was my pleasure. He tossed an errant twig into the fire. It’s gonna take me a while to wrap my head around all the insane shit I saw today. Those little fairy things were eating people, right? Sure were! Jesus. Corey chuckled as he looked at his friend. It’s good to have you back. It’s good to be back. They both gazed into the fire after that, allowing the muted silence to speak for them as they simply enjoyed each other’s companies and allowed old wounds to mend in the solitude. Now Corey sat amidst the brand new dome arena created exclusively for Fire and Ice. The ring had yet to go up, and workmen scurried this way and that making the final finishing touches to the building. Corey watched them go as he sat in a first row folding seat, legs propped up on the barricade. Oh yeah, you know it. It’s shit talkin’ time. “I know Corey. All too well. “ He speaks the words in a mocking tone of voice, steepling his fingers together like some old timey villain. Bullshit you do, Karma Chameleon. Look man, unless you’re secretly Dolly Waters, Thad Duke, The Engineer or Lux under that mask, you know fuck all about me. Because those people know me better than anyone else in the XWF. And considering that Lux and The Engineer are dead and neither Thad or Dolly would be caught fuckin’ DEAD being YOU, I’d say I’m pretty safe. I will give you this though, you do a pretty mean version of Dick. Although it’s probably just a testament to how paper thin his personality is that a tosspot like you could imitate him so well. So how do you “know” me, Chameleon? Have you been in the ring with me? Have you BEATEN me? You haven’t even been here a month you dipshit. And even if you’ve exhaustively studied reams and reams of my matches, you haven’t had access to anything different than the plethora of other people I’ve beaten. You don’t think they studied my tapes? They got rolled all the same. You think you got my style down pat though, huh? I mean that IS your deal, right? Adaptation. Insight. Knowledge. Fatality? Babality? BRUTALITY? FINISH HIM! Man fuck you you weren’t even my tenth pick when I was kickin’ it old school with MK Trilogy. There is only one person that you could have possibly learned my style from, and she lived in my head and she is now deceased. So please, regale me with the secret formula you used to learn my fighting style so succinctly that you can’t possibly lose? Tell me how this time it’ll be different from all the others who sat and watched my past performances and lost. Did you even talk to Thad Duke or Bobby Bourbon? They both beat me, but I’m guessing that little factoid slipped your advanced artificial intelligence matrix or what the fuck ever. You should probably start thinking about what happens when you lose this match. I mean, that Custodian guy seems like a pretty brutal taskmaster. What are you gonna get repurposed as when you fail? I mean, with your ability to parody others, you might make it as a C-list SNL cast member? Can you do Trump? You might have a chance! Nah man. Or lady. You’re a joke. But I can’t wait to see the sorry ass impression you do of me. I bet I can name at least three people off the top of my head who’ve done even that much better than you. And yes, Chameleon, yes, I cede the final word to you. If you dare to take it. That’s how confident I am here. Because there is no trite bit of verbal soggy shits you could possibly muster that will make you look any less stupid or overconfident in this situation. Oh man, I’m gonna LOVE hate watching it though! Nothing gets me revved up like watching terrible, dull, obtuse promos. And you sir/madam, you are just the bees knees when it comes to that. So let’s go on to someone who I have a modicum of interest in. Somebody who’s more than just a “warmed over everyone else”. Jay Omega, of course! Corey sucks in a breath and clutches his hands together. You have a pet dinosaur named LITTLE COREY?! Squeeeeee! Okay, not named after me, but still, fuckin LOOOOOOVE IT! But first of all, I think we need to address the roughly dinosaur shaped elephant in the room here. Vinnie? Theo? Guys. This is now TWO potential opponents that have zero interest in actual winning my championship. What the hell is going on here? You couldn’t find five whole people who want the thing? And hell, two more of them haven’t even bothered to cut a promo! There is like, negative interest in anyone actually winning this thing. I’m almost tempted to be offended. I mean, I know it may not be as sexy as Peter Vaughn’s Universal championship (spoilers), but it’s still pretty cool. I’m champion of all of Warfare, the unquestioned A-show of the XWF! Man! So, anyway, Jay I’m going to ask you the same thing I asked Dick. Why are you here? I mean, okay, okay, you’re here because you’re contractually obligated to be. But what is your presence in this match? Are you going to try if you don’t even really want to be here? It kinda makes that whole “gonna do everything in my power to win” thing seem kinda…bullshit. Sure, there’s the feather in your cap of beating me, but let’s face facts. By YOUR own admission you don’t have a hell of a lot of motivation here. I do. I actually CARE about this championship and this division. And I’m nowhere near ready to lose this title. But I do have some good news for you. You said you want full throttle Corey Smith? Oh ho ho BOY I don’t know how to do anything but! So in that regard you are in for a treat. You know what’s not gonna be a treat for you? “Keeping things slow and methodical”. Again, your words. You see, I don’t do anything slow and methodical. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m pretty fast. So you walking in there semi gassed and wanting to put on some kind of mid-range technical clinic isn’t gonna wash when I’m kicking you in the face five ways from Sunday. Just a friendly word of warning for ya! All that being said, you’re still a pretty okay guy in my book. And your life might just somehow be more insane than mine. I have NEVER been to hell. Went to limbo once to talk to a deceased former Universal Champion. That was a wild ride. But hell? No me gusta. Ahhhhh. This of course leaves us with….the rest. The also rans. The quiet ones. The uninvested. Dick. Rampage. That guy who was going to be my number one favoritest opponent but now I can’t even remember his name because GOD DAMMIT I AM JUST SO DISSAPPOINTED IN YOU! None a ya’all are gonna win. If the talky effort you guys have put forth is any indication, you have even less motivation going into this match than Jay Omega. And that guy straight up said he has no interest in being Supercontinental Champion. Yikes. So, here’s what I’m going to recommend. We all know it ain’t gonna be you. Soooo, how about you just don’t show up? I want a good fight, guys! And poor Jay Omega already admitted he won’t be 100%! So I move that we just cull the chaff from the wheat straight away, let Chameleon and Jay thrown down by themselves, and then I might…MIGHT!...still get to have a relatively fresh Jay Omega to fight. Can we do that? I believe in you. I believe in all three of you guys’ collective ability to fail miserably. So let’s do this! Corey pumps a fist in the air and mouths “yeah!” Final thought. I’m dedicating this match to two people. Thad Duke and Lux. Thad Duke because he is once again my friend and I have to referee his fight with his stupid dad earlier in the evening. And Lux. Because, and here’s another one of my motivators, I see this title reign as the spiritual successor to her TV title reign. The very same reign that propelled her to the Universal Championship, even though it was cruelly stolen from her by The Engineer. When she lived within me, she fought week after week against all comers, defending that title even as she tried to save the world in the background. And she did it because she knew that competition matters. That these accolades in the XWF MATTER. Yes, even the Anarchy Championship. Kidding! Sorta. So, that’s why it kind of chaffs my nuts to hear that two of you don’t even want it and two of you couldn’t even be bothered to speak on it. THIS MATTERS. Regardless of what any of you have to say or not say about it. And I’m going to defend it like it matters. Corey kicks his feet down off the barricade and gets up, giving the camera a small salute as he steps off to stage right. Elsewhere So, I guess….I guess I just wish you the best. I want you to be happy, even if its without me. And even though it’s over, I hope you find something good to reflect back on. I’ll always treasure the time we had. I heard a phrase once. “We will stay and you will go.” I thought a lot about what that means. I think it means, for us, though you may be gone, what we had is forever. It’s immutable. I like the sound of that. Bittersweet as it is. I love you, Christian. Be happy. Christian is seated on a toilet with the seat down, in a run down bathroom stall at an equally run down pit stop. The Greyhound bus idled in the parking lot, and he knew he didn’t have much time. “I love you, Christian” Be happy.” Christian pulled the phone down from his ear, having finished Corey’s voicemail. He sat staring at the phone for a protracted minute, emotions roiling hot within him. The tears started to emerge, slowly at first, but then at a rapid clip, soaking his cheeks and blurring the sight of the phone’s screen. I can’t. I can’t…. He choked. Christian went to his text messages and opened up his texts with Corey. There were a number of them, all unanswered. Biting down on his bottom lip, he finally started a response. Corey, please know that I love you. It was just getting to be too much. I needed some time away. But I’ve had plenty of time to think to. And I’ve decided I still want you in my life. This isn’t forever. Just for a little bit. I will be back, I swear I’ll… There was a knock at the stall door. Christian looked up. Just a minute. He looked back down at the phone, but before he could resume his text the knock came again, more insistent this time. I said hold on! Another knock. Harder. Louder. Chrstian stymied a curse and got up, opening the door. Look man, I said….! He didn’t even feel the first blade strike as it plunged deep into his guts. Riding high on shock, he only noted the fiercness in the stranger’s eyes. But he felt the second turn of the blade, and then the third, and then the fourth. Christian collapsed back into the stall, holding his hands up to his abdomen as far too much blood was freed. Oh God…oh God…. His phone slipped from his bloodied hands, clattering to the floor. And he suddenly felt cold, very cold. An incessant buzz began to sound in his ears. To the point that he could barely hear the stranger’s words. I am The Engineer. He brought his heel down on the phone, shattering it. Message unsent.